


Turning Back

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Castiel, Love Confessions, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:10:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4196838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place directly after the end of Hunter Heroici (Episode 8x08).<br/>The brothers start to leave town, but they decide to return after Dean is concerned about Cas' earlier confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Back

**Author's Note:**

> ***Trigger warning**** Self harm. Lots of pain here, so please consider that. I thought this was an important story to tell because Cas' emotional well-being is rarely addressed, and even more rarely is he comforted. Love you all!

        Cas sat in the motel room, still, quiet. Sam had nudged him as the brothers left the nursing home, and told him he’d pay for one more night for Cas, just in case.  Sam had noticed, as Dean had, the melancholy he’d been under. Maybe, just maybe, they cared a little for him.  But they left. He asked them to, but they left him. And he was alone again.

        And it hurt just as much as when Cas pulled away from Dean in Purgatory.  That sense of having nothing.  What _was_ he, anyway.  He had tried to atone for his sins in purgatory, and now he was thrown out of that place and into a world that was even more foreign.  With human emotions and nuances that for the large part of a year he had done without. Except for the prayers.

        A sob erupted unexpectedly from Cas’ throat. He knew that if he allowed it, he could feel Dean’s longing. If he turned back on “angel radio”, Dean’s prayers would be there. And he didn’t deserve it. Any of it. He was scared to listen to that voice.  He was terrified.  Cas raised a hand to his face and found it wet with tears.  The waves of the empty prayers was almost as suffocating as hearing them.

        The pain he caused in heaven and on earth was magnified tenfold in his chest and his entire grace. Just. so. much. pain. He _just_ wanted the pain to _go away_. He screamed in anger and it turned into a keening wail that had him stumbling as he walked into the bathroom.  He looked at his stricken face in the mirror, this human vessel with which he had made so many mistakes. He wanted it _off_.  Cas scratched at his arms suddenly, watching the red scratches bleed; angry when he couldn’t feel the pain. Because he was an angel. A very bad one. Why did people keep saving him? Why couldn’t he just be at _peace_?!  Cas launched himself out of the bathroom, trenchcoat long discarded, suit sleeves pushed back and his white button up shirt laced red.  He fell to his knees, grabbing the angel blade where it had fallen from his coat. He didn’t even hear Dean walk in, and quickly sliced up his arm with the blade, sobbing in relief as his grace screamed in pain.

 

~~~

        Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. The impala idled at a light on the edges of the city.  An impatient driver behind them honked his horn and tires squealed as he passed, flipping Dean and Sam the bird.  Dean couldn’t put out of his head the way Cas had looked earlier when he told him about all the things he had done.  His breath shaking when he said he couldn’t face it, how he might kill himself.  

Cas had looked newly hopeful when they left, but that only worried Dean more.Sam finally spoke up from his side, “Dean?”  Dean looked at Sam, at the traffic light,

        “Hey, there was a diner a block back, do you mind hanging there for a bit,” Dean tried to crack a smile, “you know, doing your-nerdy-research and shit.”

Sam frowned, “Okay?”  His gaze remained fixed on Dean, demanding an explanation. Dean sighed,

        “I just want to check on Cas, all right?” He felt his shoulders tense up and chanced a look at his brother.  Sam’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth, but then his eyes softened and he nodded,

        “Yeah, sure.” Dean’s gaze was back on the road as he made a u-turn, and he heard his brother add a soft, “Okay.”

~~~

        The horror Dean felt when he entered that motel room would be in his dreams for a while.  He fiddled with the lock on the door, starting when he heard a loud noise from inside,

        “Cas? Hey-” Dean stopped in his tracks when he saw Cas knelt on the floor, forearms bloody, face wrecked. He saw Cas pick up the angel blade and run it under the length of his arm. Dean shouted as Cas let out a sob, and he all but tackled Cas, which didn’t do much with his angel mojo, but it prompted Cas to turn and look Dean in the eyes. His eyes were terrified, in pain, and Dean felt it like all the air had been ripped out of him.  Then Cas turned and slashed again with the blade,

        “No!” Dean tried the pull the weapon away but his strength was useless. Again and again Cas slashed down, his breath ragged as he cut. Finally, desperately, Dean just lined his arms with Cas,

        “If you hurt yourself, you’ll only hurt me, Cas.”  The first time, Cas just pushed his arms away, but Dean did it again, and again, until the pained breaths Cas was taking turned into whimpers, and he dropped the blade,

        “Let me go.” Cas’ voice was small, broken. Dean felt his own face covered with tears, and instead of letting go he turned Cas into his chest and locked arms around his back. He felt Cas’ body shake with his sobs as his hands clenched and unclenched in his jacket, “Let me go, Dean,” his voice choking, “Make it stop. Please, just make it stop.” Then Cas was burying his face into Dean’s chest, and Dean let out a rattling breath. He couldn’t speak or he would start crying too, so he lifted a shaky arm and began to rub circles on Cas’ back, waiting him out.

        At one point, Cas’ cries intensified and he shoved away from Dean, gagging and coughing up bile. Dean leveled one arm under Cas’ torso, supporting him. When Cas fell back, his hair was soaking with sweat, his face in snot and tears, puffy and lips quivering.  Dean noticed he was leaning almost all his weight back, and that the cuts made with the angel blade mostly looked like they were already healing, but a couple must have been deep enough to touch Cas’ grace, and that ethereal blue light leaked out along with blood, too much blood.

        “All right, man, let me get you patched up, all right?” Cas didn’t resist as Dean pulled him to his feet, though he swayed and let out little coughs and sniffles.  Dean helped him rest back on one of the beds, then placed a comforting hand on his thigh, “I’ve got to get some supplies from the car.” Cas didn’t answer, not meeting Dean’s gaze. Dean faltered, then picked up the angel blade and walked out.  Dean cleaned the blood from the scratches, and placed gauze gently over the two worst gashes that still showed blue grace.  It was strange now, everything too quiet. Cas hadn’t said a word since Dean moved him.  Silently, Dean got a washcloth and wiped over the edges of Cas’ chin and cheeks, “You should really get in the shower, man. It might make you feel better, too.”  Cas looked up at him wordlessly, his eyes more guarded now, like the angel Dean was used to seeing. “Or not.” Dean tossed the washcloth aside and sat on the bed next to Cas, “Scootch. Let’s go.”

        Cas gave him a squinty glance, and when he spoke, his voice was wrecked and raw, “Scootch?” Dean repressed a sigh of relief that at least Cas could still sound exasperated with him, and nodded,

        “Yup, scootch.” Cas sighed and shifted, and Dean sat close, curling an arm around Cas’ shoulder. He felt a tremor run through Cas and noticed a tear run down his cheek.  Taking a deep breath he reached down a shaky hand and interlaced his fingers with Castiel. Cas went very still, then tilted his head and rested it on Dean’s shoulder.

 

~~~

        When Cas opened his eyes he felt exhausted, his fingers touching the comforter of a motel bed, his pillow. Blankets had been pulled over his shoulders and tucked around him. It was an odd sensation, to wake. Angels were not supposed to sleep.  As he shifted he felt soft cotton on his arms, and he pulled it off. His wounds were healed, though his grace was still weakened from the attack. Attacks.  He closed his eyelids hard and felt himself begin to curl in on himself. The shame of something he didn’t even know what of. And the pain, still there.  

        “Hey, hey, none of that.” Cas’ eyes opened again, and he saw Dean approach the bed, wary. Cas slowly pushed the covers away and sat up, noticing the blood stains still covering his clothing.  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rested his head in his hands. He felt the bed dip as Dean sat next to him and placed a palm on his upper back, rubbing softly.  Cas didn’t understand why Dean was suddenly being so nice to him.  Dean liked his space, he didn’t do “chick flick moments” as Sam had explained to him. But he enjoyed this comfort, the display of caring. So he let Dean’s warm touch soothe him, before finally raising his head out of his hands and looking at Dean.

        “Woah,” Dean’s eyebrows were raised, “Man, you look like shit.” He chuckled as Cas scowled, then cleared his throat, “But at least, you’re alive.” Dean’s eyes were filled with pain and Cas instantly felt guilty for causing it.  Tears threatened to rise again when Dean placed his hand around Cas’ neck and leaned in so their foreheads were touching. Dean’s breaths were uneven, and Cas closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of Dean so near.  “I thought, if I hadn’t come in, Cas. I could have lost you.” Dean’s voice wavered, and Cas pulled away to wipe at his eyes, noticing Dean’s eyes were also wet.  They stared at each other for a minute, Cas trying to explain in his stare what he couldn’t explain in words, before Dean pulled him into another embrace. “You’re coming with me and Sam for a couple more days.” Dean’s voice grew strong again, and Cas was too tired to object, he simply nodded.

        Later, as Cas got out of the shower, because Dean literally pushed him into the spray of water, he saw that Dean had cleaned the room as best he could.  He walked out to the impala, where Dean gestured for him to get in the front seat. Sam strolled up behind him and turned him, swallowing him in a bear hug, then giving his shoulder a squeeze.  Cas sat in the front seat, noting a small blanket balled on the seat cushion, he turned it around in his hands.  Sam and Dean got in and he looked at Dean expectantly.  “Yeah, well, I stashed your trenchcoat in the back, so I thought you might need it.”

        Cas tilted his head, feeling the softness of the fleece.  “Angels don’t get cold, Dean.”  Sam spoke up from the back,

                “Blankets and coats are ways humans find comfort, Cas.”

        “You wanted me to feel comforted?” Cas looked back at Dean, who had pointedly faced forward and began driving. The way Sam looked at Cas, he knew this was important to Dean, and he felt a surge of a strange feeling of closeness and belonging. So Cas opened the small throw and ran his fingers over it, tucking it around his body. Sam’s mouth quirked at the sight of the man in a suit, bundled in a five dollar fleece throw in the front of the impala, but said nothing.  

        Cas felt Dean’s eyes on him again, softening with fondness and concern, “You know we always want you around, right?” Cas didn’t answer. Dean leaned over and tugged at a corner of the blanket, “You know I-” he looked back at his brother, who was pointedly focused on something out the window, “I love you, Cas.” he mumbled. Cas felt a wave of shock run through him, and relief and happiness. Not entirely believing it but wanting to.  His throat appeared to be choked up, and Dean straightened, a hurt look flashing on his face.

        At the next gas station, as Sam ran in to grab some snacks, Cas had gotten his voice back, and he reached out a hand and grabbed Dean’s arm. “Yes.” he said, and Dean turned, eyes widened, “I love you, too.”  Dean’s face lit up.  Sam opened the car door and Cas pulled back.  Dean turned the music on and he glanced over at Cas, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face.  Sam threw a bag of jerky up at Dean,

        “Hey, hey, hey!” Dean exclaimed as Sam laughed.  Cas watched them, felt a spark of hope.  He still hurt from the voices in his mind, and the things he had done.  And he was still very lost.  But maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone.


End file.
